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Monthly Archives: August 2012

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Today is my sister’s birthday. Every year, I ask her what kind of cake I can make her and do you know what she says? “I don’t want a cake. I just want a big bowl of vanilla bean custard.” I hope you understand how hard this is for me (and please read that back in your brattiest little sister voice; it is, after all, all about me, right?) Making elaborate birthday cakes for family and friends is my thing. It has launched an entire section of this site, and portion of my cookbook (which includes my son’s 2nd, my husband’s 37th and 38th, and maybe even your next birthday cakes, too). I delight in trying to find a layered summary of everyone’s favorite things that fits in a cake carrier, and I think it’s awfully mean of my sister to deny me this outlet every August 30th. (Huff. Puff.) A bowl of custard? There’s not much to say about it.

Or, there might not be if your narrator wasn’t such a blabbermouth. To wit: Custard, or pastry cream, is a pretty big deal in my family. My mother and sister especially consider it among the dessert greats, whereas others mostly look at it as just an element of grander things. It’s the filling of cream puffs and eclairs; it forms a delightful layer underneath freshly sliced strawberries or an artful arrangement of stunning fruit. Sometimes, it separates cake layers, fills the hollows of doughnuts and Boston Cream Pies, too. But it rarely gets it’s own day in the sun — or you know, single serving bowl with a spoon — and my sister thinks that it should.

What are you grilling for Labor Day? My favorite is this cut of beef, a triangle-shaped “tri-tip”, from the bottom sirloin. It’s also called a “Santa Maria steak” because Santa Maria, California is where it first became popular. Typically it is rubbed first with a mixture of salt, black pepper, and garlic salt, and then whatever other seasonings you want, and then barbecued over red oak wood. I love the cut because it’s just a fat, juicy steak that cooks up beautifully on the grill. You can marinate it, or use a classic Santa Maria rub. In this recipe we are starting with the basic rub and adding some herbs and a little cayenne. Some recipes will have you cut the layer of fat off the roast, I prefer to keep it on, and bathe the steak in the juiciness of fat as it cooks. Now, the only problem with tri-tip is that it can be hard to find outside of California, though I understand Costco does carry it. If you can’t find it, you can still use this approach and the Santa Maria rub with a thick (look for a two inch thick or greater) well marbled sirloin steak, or london broil.

What are you grilling for Labor Day? My favorite is this cut of beef, a triangle-shaped “tri-tip”, from the bottom sirloin. It’s also called a “Santa Maria steak” because Santa Maria, California is where it first became popular. Typically it is rubbed first with a mixture of salt, black pepper, and garlic salt, and then whatever other seasonings you want, and then barbecued over red oak wood. I love the cut because it’s just a fat, juicy steak that cooks up beautifully on the grill. You can marinate it, or use a classic Santa Maria rub. In this recipe we are starting with the basic rub and adding some herbs and a little cayenne. Some recipes will have you cut the layer of fat off the roast, I prefer to keep it on, and bathe the steak in the juiciness of fat as it cooks. Now, the only problem with tri-tip is that it can be hard to find outside of California, though I understand Costco does carry it. If you can’t find it, you can still use this approach and the Santa Maria rub with a thick (look for a two inch thick or greater) well marbled sirloin steak, or london broil.

“I came up with this fresh-tasting, spicy recipe one night as we fired up steaks smothered in a smoky hickory BBQ sauce on our new grill. The combination was a hit and this has definitely become a new favorite. We like our food spicy, so adjust the amount of chipotle and onion to suit your taste.”

We are at the beach this week and even though there was a point when we were trying to pile the toddler, his 55 favorite toys including a full-sized tricycle, me, my 25 kitchen necessities including, apparently, a meat thermometer and the serrated peeler one of you told me about a few weeks ago that I now can’t live without, the beach towels, blankets, umbrellas, sandcastle-shaped bucket, toddler bed bars, a box of groceries and my husband (happy anniversary, baby!) in our little car that we thought we should really just stay home instead, it wasn’t long into our drive onto the North Fork, passing miles of farms, leave-you-money-in-the-box roadside blackberry stands, dilapidated barns, impeccably kept houses, and more grape vines than you could count in your lifetime that we were unwaveringly certain we were back where we were meant to be.

It’s so quiet here that the days feel longer, virtually distraction-free. We’ve been beaching in the morning, adventuring with the toddler in the afternoons and cooking up a storm for dinner each night. We had a mash-up of Molly’s Dry-Rubbed Ribs and Harold McGee’s Oven Ribs (that I really have to reassemble here one day, with some streamlining) one night (with corn and an heirloom caprese), and last night, we had a tiny dinner party with friends that are in town with sugar steaks (a recipe I’ve only been promising you for a year), a crunchy Greek salad and this old favorite potato salad. Are you around? You should come over for dinner. We tend to make too much.

Is it really almost Labor Day? Whatever happened to the summer? When I was a kid, summers seemed to stretch on forever. Days were spent lollygagging along the river, trying to catch minnows, dipping in here and there to stay cool. Summer meant pick-up games of “pickle” on the quiet street in front of our house, stealing bases, and hoping the kid with the ball would overshoot. It seemed almost every day the ice cream truck came by, our highly trained ears could pick up the tune blocks away. If there was a pool we played “MARCO POLO” (caps for emphasis, we were loud) for hours and hours. How did our parents put up with us? Oh yeah, they didn’t, they pretty much ignored us most the time. At least during the summer.